The New Owner
by AngeloftheMorning1978
Summary: If just one thing were different. Norma and Dylan have a good relationship. Romero prevents Keith Summers from hurting Norma. Told from Romero and Norma's POV.
1. Chapter 1

1.

**Romero**.

~ Alex Romero saw him in the diminishing light of evening. It was hard to miss Keith Summers or the Frankenstein like truck he'd kept cobbled together for the past twenty years or more. Trying to hide in the skeleton like forests behind the house and so easily seen.

The new owner of Summers old motel and family house had called in a complaint yesterday. Someone named Dylan Massette who said Keith had made harsh threats to him. Romero didn't put it past Summers to still think of the large old house as rightfully his, even if it had been lawfully foreclosed on and sold last month to an out of state buyer.

Alex had called the new motel's number and gotten the full story from what sounded like a very aggravated young man.

"He came up here, saying that he was good friends with the Sheriff and they wouldn't do anything." Dylan had said.

"I am the Sheriff." Alex told him sourly recalling how Keith Summers was no friend to him and hadn't been for a long time. "Don't worry, I'm sending out a patrol to the house every hour."

"Well, my younger brother was with me." Dylan went on. Alex had no trouble picturing the type who'd buy the old motel. Young and ambitious. That was what White Pine Bay and all of Oregon was becoming.

"Don't worry about Summers." Alex had said interrupting him sounding far too much like the former Sheriff Romero.

Now, here Keith Summers was, sneaking onto the property from the back as though he still owned it. Alex wasn't surprised. He'd hoped, with the final sale of the house and run down motel, that Keith Summers would be gone from White Pine Bay forever, but it must be harder to let go of this place than Alex thought.

He radioed for back up, picking up Zack Shelby's response before flashing his lights.

Keith Summers froze. Like a trapped animal who was about to receive the death blow. A large hammer in one hand and a roll of duct tape in another. Romero kept the lights on as he parked his SUV. It didn't take too much imagination to guess what Keith had planned for the new owners of his old house. Summers was known for violent assaults and Alex always had a nagging suspicion he was guilty of much more.

"Got plans for tonight, Keith?" Alex asked nodding to the duct tape. His hand resting on the butt of his gun. Keith looked blurry eyed and drunk. His coordination off and unfocused.

"Put your hands up. You're trespassing." Alex warned.

He could hear another vehicle pull into the small clearing behind him. Shelby's lights blazing red and blue.

"Hands up." Romero warned again when Keith looked ready to fight both men.

It had always been easy to arrest Summers. He never had much fight in him with his poor health and drinking problems. There had been a lot of complaining and crying in the end, but he eventually sobbed himself into the back of Shelby's SUV.

"He had a pair of handcuffs in that tool belt of his." Zack whispered showing Romero the heavy leather belt. "Complete with keys. Where do you think he got those?"

Alex shook his head.

"It's not the kind you get off Amazon, Sheriff." Shelby told him. "It looks department issued."

Romero looked up at the imposing house on the hill. The once grand mansion had always given him the creeps and had been as good as abandoned since the 90's.

"I'm going to go talk to the new owner." He said.

**Norma.**

~ Norma Bates had always wanted a house like this. A beautiful home that was right out of some gothic novel. Complete with full furnishings and a stained glass window. All at a reasonable foreclosure price she couldn't pass up on.

Dylan had warned her that she knew nothing about the motel business. Norman had his doubts to. That the only business she knew was being a full time mother. But, running a motel couldn't be any harder than taking care of two sons and she'd done that practically on her own since she was a teenager.

The house and motel were going to need a lot of work though. Norman had school full time so it was nice that Dylan was here to help her. Her oldest child had always been good about that. Always been a good son even if they had to bicker back and forth like a pair of old ladies.

She smiled at the thought. Dylan was too much like her. Too ready to argue and fight. Her son had been in trouble all the time in school for fighting but now he seemed to have gotten it out of his system.

She'd gotten pregnant with him when she was barely sixteen years old and it felt as if they'd grown up together. Not ideal that she counted on him more than anyone else in her life.

'_Not like Sam_.' Norma thought bitterly and quickly shook the memory away. It didn't do any good to think about Sam anymore. He was gone an the insurance money he'd left behind enabled them to buy this house and business and start a new life. The three of them living independently for the first time ever.

The house would need work, the motel to. The front office was a total disaster. Norman, the gangly teenager that he was, had wadded into the mess of papers to find repair records and search in vain for the deed.

"The roof hasn't been redone since 1960?" Norma complained bitterly.

"What, mother?" Norman chirped looking up from his laptop. He'd been watching a movie with Dylan, the family having never have gotten around to actually buying a tv since they moved here from Arizona last week.

"Nothing." Norma sighed and hoped she wouldn't run out of money before all the repairs were met. It had seemed like a fortune when Sam died and the insurance adjuster called. Like they could live forever off it. Now, it was like they were bleeding to death.

The doorbell rang. One of those lovely old fashioned chimes that vibrated through the house.

The boys, ever lazy, stayed glued to the laptop and pretended they didn't hear.

Norma scowled at them.

"I'll get it." She said shifting off the comfortable armchair by the front window. She liked to sit by the front window and see down into the parking lot below. The same spot, from her bedroom above, gave her the same view, only higher. Making her feel as though she had quite the advantage of seeing all.

Several times already they had to shoo away potential customers asking when the motel would reopen. People who boldly came to the house despite the sign Dylan had posted by the motel stating it was closed for repairs and to not trespass on the house. Then the large, gaudy, sign Dylan had staked by the porch saying 'Private Property' that Norma didn't see the need for.

Norma was ready to kindly tell their visitors that the motel wasn't open yet and wouldn't be open until maybe December at this rate. It was usually a couple. A rent a room by the hour couple and whom Norma didn't want in her motel anyway. She was taken aback by the solitary man in the leather coat scowling at her as he stood on her porch.

"I- I'm sorry the motel isn't open yet. A few months." She said trying to not sound intimidated.

"I'm Sheriff Romero." The man said harshly. His gaze flicking over her and Norma took a step back.

'_Why were the police here?_' She wondered. Her heart beating wildly. Her mind racing to Sam and what had happened.

"Mom? Mom, I've got this." Dylan was coming beside her, gently maneuvering her aside. "You're Sheriff Romero? I'm Dylan Massett."

"What's going on?" Norma demanded. The two men nodding at each other.

"We found Mr. Summers on your property." Sheriff Romero was saying casually. His eyes sliding back to Norma as though she shouldn't be in this conversation.

"Who?" Norma questioned.

"Mom, why don't you go back inside?" Dylan asked trying to gently push her back into the alcove. Her son, already trying to act like a grown man who could tell her what to do.

"No, I'm not going to go back inside. This is my house and my business and you're saying you found a man on my property." She waved at the Sheriff who she now realized was in uniform under the heavy leather coat. "Now tell me what's going on."

Both her son and Sheriff Romero looked at each other.

"Your son called in a complaint yesterday." Sheriff Romero said slowly.

"What complaint?" Norma felt herself bark. She didn't like sounding so harsh but Dylan was obviously keeping things from her.

"He said the former owner, Keith Summers, had come to the property and made some threats." Romero said calmly.

"What?" Norma snapped and glared at Dylan. "Why didn't you say anything? Dylan?"

"Norman and I didn't want to worry you." Dylan explained.

"Norman was there?" Norma breathed. "What did he say?"

"He was just being an asshole." Dylan shrugged and huffed as if she were being ridiculous. Norma shrugged and huffed to mock him. She couldn't help it. Dylan knew exactly how to annoy her.

"Just being an asshole? So they arrested this guy?" Norma questioned.

"He was arrested for trespassing." Romero clarified. "All this is private property and a complaint of harassment was filed. He tone was calmer than Norma felt.

"He's been arrested?" Norma asked Romero.

The Sheriff nodded.

"For trespassing? How long will he be in lockup?" She asked feeling worried now.

"We're going to book him after midnight." He said glancing at his watch. "Charge him with trespassing, resisting arrest. I know his sister Maggie. She won't bail him out. It's the weekend so three days he'll sit in lock up before he goes before a judge."

"Then what?" Norma asked. "Will we have to press charges?"

"You can." Alex said. "Or the county will do it for you." Norma turned her attention to her son.

"You should have told me about this." She felt her voice turn into a snarl.

"Mrs. Massett, you said you're the owner?" Sheriff Romero asked.

"It's Mrs. Bates." Norma snapped. She hadn't been Mrs. Massett since Dylan was two. "Yes, I am. My son here is the manager. We're fixing up the motel and house."

"Mrs. Bates." Romero corrected. "I'm going to walk around. Make sure Summers didn't do any damage to the property."

"I'll come with you." Dylan offered.

"You go back inside." Norma said harshly. "Norman has school tomorrow and it's already ten o'clock."

Dylan looked embarrassed that she was chewing him out in front of the Sheriff.

"Go." She nodded. She wasn't used to laying down the law with Dylan, they didn't have that kind of relationship, but she was more annoyed with him than usual now.

She waited until Dylan slipped back into the house.

"I'll go with you. Check and make sure that guy didn't do anything..." She said trailed off wrapping her arms around her chest and nodding to the run down series of cabins. Romero nodded and the two of them started towards the motel.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

**Romero**.

~ Alex had to stop himself from telling this woman that maybe she should have taken the time to get a coat before running into the increasingly cold weather. Fall in Oregon wasn't like anywhere else. They could never warn people from out of state enough how cold it could get once the sun went down. She was inadequately dressed for the weather with just a simple skirt, blouse and thin looking sweater.

He would have gently pointed all this out to her, but the woman, this Mrs. Bates, was out pacing him by a fair amount already. Her slip on shoes, also not suitable for the weather, were as swift and nimble as ballerina steps down the concrete stairs.

"I can't believe Dylan didn't say anything about some creep... what exactly happened?" Mrs. Bates asked once she'd gotten to the foot of the stairs and waited for Romero to catch up.

"Mr. Summers had come to the property yesterday afternoon." Alex said calmly and looked towards the run down motel. "Apparently saying how he owned it and said he would come back."

"I was home all day yesterday." Mrs. Bates said making a swift march towards the office. Alex conference the old building would fall to pieces if she were to ram into it at her pace. Her stride and power was so great she hardly waited for him at all. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"Maybe he didn't want to worry you." Alex offered.

He followed her into the front office. A disaster of a room that smelled of musty papers and stacked with old furniture and moldy carpet.

"Sorry about the mess." She said absentmindedly fishing out a cigar box full of old keys.

"It's fine." Alex assured her pulling out a flashlight from his belt and shining it into the back office. A sight much worse than the front office with old file cabinets left on their sides.

"We bought this place 'as is'." She explained and found the sets of room keys. "I was going to have the boys clean out the front office this weekend. We still haven't even found the original deed yet, had to get a copy from city hall. If it keeps raining..." she trailed off and showed him the master key.

"Keith wasn't known for his house keeping." Alex told her. He was thankful Mrs. Bates had at least replaced the outside lights so the place looked less dark and dreary.

"The motel was built in the 60's and it seems that's the last time any improvements were done." She sighed opening room one so Alex could look inside.

It was like a time capsule. Hideously preserved and morbid to behold. Shag carpet, retro mid entry dresser and king size bed; savagely stripped of everything but the bed frames.

Even the wall paper was the same, faded but still showing the orange flowers of the mod sixties old Mrs. Summers had thought were so stylish. Alex peeped in the bathroom. Saw Mrs. Bates and stripped out the shower curtains as well as the bedding.

"We're going to take out the carpet tomorrow." She told him looking at the disgusting shag. "All this rain and mud. It would be easier just to have laminate flooring. Faux wood."

"Might have a good plumber come." Alex said. "Toilets never flushed right. Always had to jiggle the handle."

"You stayed at this motel a lot, Sheriff?" Mrs. Bates asked suspiciously. Alex seeing her alarmingly blue eyes narrow at him and he realized his slip up. It was never a good thing to admit you stayed at a motel when you lived here.

"Let's check the other rooms." He said as an answer.

**Norma**.

~ It was embarrassing to have the local Sheriff come and examine each room like this. When each room had it's own particular theme of disgust and decay that Norma hadn't had time to address. She'd been making a list to strip out all the carpets. Each room had a different set of carpet color and texture. Seeming to represent a different decade and none of them looking clean. All the mattresses had to go as well and she was thankful she had already thrown them out with the sheets and shower curtains that were breeding things. Thankful she'd taken it upon herself to scrub the bathrooms with old fashioned powdered soap until they now smelled of disinfectant and not of foulness.

The good news was the water pressure was good and tiles could be saved. Dylan was right that they might need a new water heater, but that shouldn't be too bad. Maybe this Sheriff was right about having a plumber look at the toilets. He seemed to know more than she did.

'_Clearly he was a frequent guest_.' She thought bitterly showing him the last cabin.

"Have you had anyone come to the house? Bothering you?" he asked her unlocking the last room himself.

"A few." She admitted.

He nodded and let himself in. The lights didn't snap on.

"Damn it." Norma groaned. "I thought I just replaced that bulb."

The outside lights from the walkway were more than enough for them to see the room in. He checked the bathroom, ensuring there wasn't anyone hiding.

"I want you and... Dylan, to keep all the rooms locked each night." the Sheriff said.

"We already do that." Norma snapped feeling frustrated by everything that had already happened. She watched with new annoyance as he pulled a chair from the small table by the window up to the overhead light fixture.

"Hold this." He said handing her his flashlight and stood, wet, dirty shoes and all, on top of her chair to examine the light.

It flickered back to life at the slightest touch. Bathing the room in a yellow, reassuring glow.

"Just needed to be tightened." He said hopping back down and taking his flashlight from her.

"Thank you." Norma said feeling distrustful and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Laundry room?" the Sheriff asked.

"Over there." Norma nodded to the back end of the motel. "Across from the ice machine. I'm worried I'm going to have to replace that to."

"Maybe." The Sheriff said cryptically. He followed her out to the small coin operated laundry room where the machines were large and as ancient as the motel.

"I have no idea if they still work." Norma said sadly. "They aren't high on my list of priorities."

"You need to get that taken care of." The Sheriff shone his flash light into the eyesore of the motel. The large pile of junk that had accumulated over the decades and had been left to rot. There was an old car, older than the motel even, rusted bikes and who knew what else.

"Keith Summers was fined multiple times for it. If someone were to run into it, get hurt, you could be sued." he warned.

"I know!" Norma rolled her eyes in frustration. "I've already called a scrap yard, I can't seem to get anyone to come out here. They act like they don't even want my business. Won't return my calls or even give me a quote."

"Who did you call?" he asked.

"Both places in town." She said. "It's not like we're in Phoenix anymore. There aren't a lot of options."

She felt bad that she was becoming snippy, but it was cold out, the evening was turning terrible and seeing her motel through this man's eyes was making her realize that maybe she'd made a huge mistake in buying it sight unseen.

"I'll make some calls." He said cryptically. "In the meantime, I think you should see about installing a security system in the house and here at the motel. Just in case someone decides to stay here without you knowing."

The idea made Norma's skin crawl.

"Squatters?" She asked.

He shrugged and felt his hand move to the small of her back pushing her towards the office. He quickly moved his hand away when she stiffened. She'd never liked to be touched very much. It was different with her boys, but to even be casually touched by a stranger was something that made her uncomfortable.

"I just don't want another incident like what happened tonight." the Sheriff said nodding towards the house. "Make sure you lock the doors and if anyone suspicious starts coming around, give me a call. He reached into his back pocket and handed her a business card.

A simple thing that his name and a series of phone numbers to reach him at. Office, cell, fax and department phone. How that was different from his office phone, Norma didn't know.

"Thank you." Norma said feeling the bitter gust of wind cut through her skirt and making her wish she'd brought a jacket.

She nodded vaguely to the woods by her house.

"For getting... that... guy." She said.

"Keith. Keith Summers." He clarified. The pair of them standing awkwardly by the office as if waiting for a sign to leave.

"You... um.. you may have to come to the Sheriff's station tomorrow. Officially press charges. As the property owner." He said slowly.

"Thought you said the county would do that." Norma said sharply.

He shrugged.

"Might be more effective. Show the judge you take it seriously. What happened. That you don't want him around anymore. We can even ask for a restraining order against him. If you're there." He said carefully.

"Okay." Norma said reasoning that made sense. She wanted this Keith Summers person to never set foot on her property again. She had enough to deal with.

"Maybe, come by around 10? We can get started on the paper work?" He offered. "Be done in less than an hour."

"That sounds good." She said.

"Alright." He said with an awkward smile. His eyes failing to connect with hers. "Tomorrow at 10. The Sheriff's station is downtown. Can't miss it."

"Okay." Norma said. "Should Dylan come?" She asked. "Since he was the one who'll filed the complaint?"

"No." Romero said quickly striding away from her and not looking back. "You're the owner. Just you."

**I'm glad to be getting good feedback on this story so far. I always hated the Keith Summers assault scene and so I've written it out completely. I understand that it's important to show Norma could survive and conquer over something like that, but it's an unpleasant trigger for most of us watching and we always fast forward to where she meets Alex anyway. ~L**


	3. Chapter 3

3.

**Romero.**

~ Alex was too old to be young. He was too young to be old. It was difficult for him to be taken seriously at times because, as an elected official, people expected their Sheriff to look a certain way.

They expected their Sheriff to be a seasoned professional and with a reasonable amount of graying hair and perhaps twenty pounds of extra weight from sitting behind a desk all day. They expected a man like his father had been. Who had aged relatively well and gained the required weight. With hair that thinned on top and grayed heavily after forty. Who complained about a bad knee and who's doctor warned of heart problems if he didn't take medication for his blood pressure, stop eating so much fast food and drinking so march hard liquor.

Alex Romero, looked nothing like his father. The '_former Sheriff Romero_'. A man so feared and infamous, people were still afraid to speak his name. It had been a great scandal when _the former sheriff Romero_ and several of his closest friends were apart of an FBI raid involving dirty money.

So it was a wonder that Alex, Romero name and all, had won an upset election eight years ago to become White Pine Bay's youngest Sheriff at barely 37 years old. Most men served in the department for at least a decade before such a victory, but Alex had felt as though he'd committed some kind of crime when he'd received the news on election night. Not that he was a newcomer to law enforcement. He'd earned his BA in the Marines where he'd worked as an MP. He'd come back home after his mother had died, and just in time for the aftermath of his father having to step down as Sheriff and all the trials that followed.

Without thinking too far ahead, he'd joined the Sheriff's department. Much to the annoyance of some and the delight of others. Barely five years in, he was encouraged to run for Sheriff by Bob Paris of all people. Paris even funding his campaign and saying the county needed younger people involved. Alex didn't question it then, although he regretted that careless decision now.

He'd overthrown Jack Jonas. A reasonable man who'd made no waves and left no lasting impression. Old Jack looked the part of a Sheriff. Or of a career politician which is what, Alex found out later, he went on to become. Ran and won a local office in Oregon after leaving White Pine Bay. Complete with that look of a respectable older man people liked to see in their leaders.

When the paper took their picture together after the election, Alex looked far too juvenile to be Jack's replacement. He didn't have Jack's large build, graying hair or decades of experience. People didn't look at him with the same amount of confidence.

Eight years later and Alex knew he looked much the same. He even had photographic evidence to prove it. The city required everyone in the department to update their pictures for security reasons, he was the Dick Clark of the office. Sheriff Alex Romero remained so unchanged, people would seem disappointed in meeting him. That they were expecting someone... well, someone older to be the Sheriff. He was too young to inspire any confidence in people and now, at 45, he was too old to play romantic games with the new motel owner, Mrs. Bates.

No. Those games were meant for the likes of Zack Shelby. A man who liked to pretend to be stupid so he could weasel out of anything imaginable. Alex watched women fall for it all the time. Zack pretending he didn't know where something was so Regina, their front desk girl, would roll her eyes, smile and get it for him. He'd pretend not to know how to use a copier or computer so someone, usually Regina or another office girl, it was always a girl, would type up his reports.

In the field, Zack Shelby would spend more time talking to people and letting the world pass him by than doing any actual patrols. Alex had lost track of how many times he'd written him up for shooting the breeze outside of a restaurant or bar with the locals when he was supposed to be working.

Now, here Zack was, chatting up Mrs. Bates.

She'd come in early to fill out the complaint against Keith Summers, and Zack, ever the helpful good boy when it came to attractive women, was helping her. Lending her his pen and showing her exactly where to put her name.

"Norma?" Zack was saying. "Unusual. We don't get too many Normas anymore."

Alex cut a hard look at Shelby who was leaning against the wall, as if to hold it up, and was all smiles to the new motel owner. A look that said many things, but to Romero, just proved another annoyance.

"Yeah." Mrs. Bates (_Norma)_ said. Her face pulled into a scowl as she tried to maneuver away from Zack and into the waiting room to do her paperwork.

"Norma Bates." Alex said curtly and perhaps too loudly. He couldn't help it. Couldn't help how harsh and unfriendly his voice sounded sometimes when he was in a bad mood. Couldn't help the menacing glare he gave to Shelby who stopped leaning on the wall and stopped smiling that perfect smile at her.

Norma Bates looked up at Alex to. Her expression concerned with how abruptly he'd spoken. In fact, Alex could tell all eyes were on him now and he didn't care.

He nodded back to his office. Behind the impenetrable glass of reception. A place visitors never went.

"Why don't you fill that out in my office?" He suggested.

**Norma.**

~ "Coffee?" Sheriff Romero asked. Norma looked up from the three pages of forms to see him pointing to an elaborate coffee station that took pride of place in his office. Perhaps being in law enforcement required great amounts of caffeine at any given time.

Her head was still swimming from being rescued from the dreary waiting room; with that overly helpful deputy had been all too eager to practically fill out the forms for her himself. Now she had to remember her personal information while Sheriff Romero wanted her to place an order for coffee in his office.

"Oh, no." She said having to remind herself of her new address and how it was separate from the motel address.

"I have tea." Romero offered. "Electric kettle."

She looked up and thought she'd caught a ghost of a smile. Something that faded out as soon as she looked at it. He held up a mug with a brightly painted gold star on it. **White Pine Bay Sheriff's Department** printed in large official letters was very off putting.

"No." Norma said going back to her paperwork. "Thank you."

"I have to write down exactly what happened?" Norma asked looking at the blank spot where she was supposed to write some kind of novel about what happened... in her own words.

"Yeah." Sheriff Romero said turning the coffee maker on and coming back to his desk. "Just tell us what happened so we can have it for the file."

"Well, I only know what happened because you and Dylan told me what happened." Norma complained. She wished Dylan was there with her. That creepy deputy wouldn't have tried to hit on her with Dylan around. Men never did hit on her with Dylan around. Especially after he started shaving and looked more like a grown man than her son. No one ever guessed he was her son anymore. People always thought she was his older sister.

'_Don't think like that_.' She scolded herself. She was always having to apologize to Dylan and to herself for raising him like a younger brother and not as her own child. Someone to be friends with, and not have a normal mother son relationship with. It had been easy to be Norman's mom, but Dylan...

"Just write what you know." Romero was saying. "Even if you didn't see this guy or witness him making threats."

"Well, Dylan is over eighteen." Norma offered. "I really feel like he should be here." Norma said quickly writing out what she knew in her girlish script.

She caught Romero looking at her. Caught that odd look people always gave her when she mentioned how old her son was. It had been that way ever since she'd enrolled him in kindergarten and she looked barely out of high school. She WAS barely out of high school back then. Dragging her malcontent of a son, kicking and screaming to kindergarten alone because she had to do everything alone.

"I had him when I was seventeen." She explained without asking. She knew what Sheriff Romero thought of her. She knew she looked too young to be Dylan's mother. Looked too young to be Norman's mother if she was being honest.

"I was a little surprised when he called you '_mom_' last night." Romero admitted and she thought she saw him almost smile again. Almost smile. Not quite.

"Everyone always is." Norma said sourly and knew she was rolling her eyes.

"I would have guessed he was your little brother or something." Romero added.

Norma wanted to defend herself. To tell him off for such a comment. That she was Dylan's mother and she raised him perfectly.

Instead, she shrugged. Romero hadn't meant it to insult or vilify her motherhood status. His tone had been kind. Just as it had been last night at the motel.

"We've grown up together." She said feeling uncomfortable.

"His last name is different from yours. Mrs. Bates." Romero said as if reminding her of what her last name was.

Norma nodded and wrote down Dylan and Norman as witnesses to Keith Summers coming onto the property.

"I divorced his father. Long time ago." She admitted sadly. "Remarried."

"Is Mr. Bates helping you fix up the motel?" Romero asked. It was almost painful how casual he was trying to sound.

'_Whoa_.' Norma thought and had to bite her lip not to laugh. '_Put some more bait on that hook_.'

She and Dylan would have a good laugh about this when she told him.

'_See, Norma, there you go again. Treating Dylan like your best friend and telling him about random men hitting on you. He's your son. That should be the last thing he should care about._' She thought.

"Mr. Bates..." Norma said slowly and tried to sound sad even though she didn't feel it. "Passed away about six months ago."

She saw Romeo's face form that complex web of emotions. Should he express sympathy at her loss? Happiness that she was single? Or try to remain professional and distant.

"Oh." Was all he said.

"The boys and I wanted to start over." She admitted.

"The boys?"

"Dylan and Norman. My sons." She told him waiting for him to look horrified.

He didn't though. His expression was mildly interested.

"Norma... and Norman?" He asked dryly.

'_Oh God, he's one of those people_.' She thought.

"Yeah." She said.

"Unusual." He said.

"Well, men name their sons after themselves all the time." she told him. She'd decided against the full argument she was used to telling people.

"I'm sure you're right." Romero said. "I don't have a son... so I don't know."

Again, Norma was visited by the idea that he was fishing for something. Perhaps pity. Men like him, men in power, always liked the idea of having a son. At least, that's what she'd always thought.

"Norman just started school this week. Sophomore." She said proudly.

"Bus comes right up to the motel." Romero added. Showing off how well he knew the town. "Although that might change when the bypass comes at the end of the year."

Norma looked up at him.

"Bypass?" She asked. The word sounded important. Important enough to change Norman's bus stop.

Romero nodded.

"What bypass?" She asked unsure of what just happened.

"The bypass that will start about five miles from your place. City planners have been having to deal with a lot of through traffic coming into downtown. We don't have the roads for it and they want to keep downtown a walking area." Romero explained.

"And... this bypass will start five miles from my motel?" Norma asked.

"You didn't know about this?" Romero asked. "Your realtor didn't-"

"No, he didn't-" Norma interrupted. "The guy who sold me the house looked like he just dropped out of community college. I bought it at foreclosure."

She could feel her blood pressure rising. A bypass like what Romero was describing court cut off traffic to her her business completely. She'd be bankrupt before she even got started.

"No, I had no idea." She said feeling defeated. She glanced up at Sheriff Romero who offered no helpful solutions.

"I thought they would _want_ people... downtown." She said lamely.

"The city council has contracts with... big box stores." Romero explained carefully. "Means jobs that we need. We'll have an off ramp to downtown."

"Well, who can I talk to about an off ramp to my motel?" Norma asked feeling the urge to cry. She realized her voice was doing that thing again. Pitching high to sound like a little girl. Dylan was always complaining about it. How it was manipulative and he wasn't going to fall for it. They would have some of their worst fights when she would cry and he wouldn't give her her way. What was worse, was how he'd encourage Norman to just ignore her to. Like she was a toddle throwing a tantrum. It made her feel even more as if she'd failed Dylan as mother.

Romero looked at her with a slight nod of compassion.

"Finish filling these out." He nodded to the forms. "I know Lee Berman. He's head of the city council. They don't have a meeting for another six months, but I'll call and see if he can talk to you."


	4. Chapter 4

4.

**Romero.**

~ Alex was shot.

That's why he'd been discharged from the Marines all those years ago. He was still bitter about the whole thing. Still bitter about answering the domestic abuse call at a family housing unit at the military base in California. Some Sargent and his wife were fighting again. Loud enough to wake the entire cul de sac of little houses that had been built in the fifties for enlisted men and their families. Little houses with paper thin walls where Alex and the other MPs were sent out almost every night to break up fights or marital disputes.

That night had been different. Alex had been distracted by the children and the wife who was bleeding from the head. The screw driver lodged in her husband's shoulder. Everyone screaming at each other and all he could think of was that small children were having to see all of this. He hadn't been paying attention to the Sargent with the screwdriver jammed in his shoulder. Thought his partner had him under control. Didn't realize there was a gun in play and the Sargent didn't care about shooting someone in front of his children.

It didn't register right away that he'd been shot. At first, Alex thought he'd been punched in the chest. Hard enough to spin him around. The wife was screaming then. The children were crying and Alex didn't understand what had happened. There there was more gunfire. Gunfire he later found out came from his partner. Alex was staring stupidly at everyone there; wondering what went wrong. As if he'd missed something important. The punchline to a joke perhaps.

Then he saw it. Saw the great rush of blood coming out of him. Coming out of him and he couldn't explain why or when it had happened. Panic set in and he felt his legs grow weak.

The screaming woman became white noise and Alex accepted that he was going to die. That he was going to die in this filthy little bungalow surrounded by strangers who were screaming and crying. Who would have to see him die and always remember it.

But then, he didn't die. He awoke from heavy pain medications to find himself in a clean and comfortable hospital bed. One of about ten in the large hospital barracks. No privacy at all in the military. Not even after a major surgery.

A doctor came by, asked his name and told him he would live, but he would do it as a civilian from now on. The Marines didn't want him anymore. No mater how much he had given to them or how much he wanted to be there.

A few weeks in physical rehab and Alex was medically discharged. He took a bus back to White Pine Bay. Just in time to find out his mother had died and his father was being arrested. It had all seemed like something from a horror movie. A life he was supposed to pick up the pieces to and pretend he wasn't at all broken; inside and out.

He'd sold his father's house. Bad memories anyway, and decided to rent a small house. Alex liked the option of leaving White Pine Bay whenever he wanted. Escaping in the dead of the night maybe. But he'd stayed for some reason. This town made it easy for him to stay.

It wrapped it's arms around you, pulled you under and you didn't even realize it was drowning you till it was too late.

**Dylan**.

~ The scrap man, Dylan never knew there was such a thing, came by the motel as soon as his mother left to make her report to the Sheriff's office.

"I don't understand." Dylan said to the hefty looking older man who was pulling an empty flatbed trailer behind his truck.

The older man shrugged.

"I got a call this morning." He said. A pinky digging in his ear and he looked a little bored. "Sheriff's office said to come out here and remove dangerous debris." He shrugged again and looked around the empty motel parking lot. "Where is this dangerous debris? Sheriff Romero said it was a public safety concern and that it would take a lot to haul it all away."

Immediately, Dylan understood.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Didn't sleep well last night." He explained. He quickly showed the scrap man the piles of unsightly refuse that he and his mother had been trying to get rid of for a week now.

"Well, shit." The scrap man said when he saw the old car under the rusted metal.

"We've been making calls." Dylan explained.

"I'll have to come back for the car." the man said. "But I can start on the bulk of it now."

"Really?" Dylan asked hopefully. They had called places all over town. Prepared to pay anything that was asked to get the junk hauled away.

"How much?" Dylan asked. He had access to his mother's checkbook and could write this man a check today.

The man shook his head.

"I'm contracted with the county. Sheriff said it's a public health concern and he wasn't kidding. My fees are taken care of by the county. I'm only saying, I can't get all of it today is all. I'll have to come back for the car tomorrow." The man explained.

"That's fine." Dylan said eagerly.

**Norma**.

~ "What?" Norma asked again. If this was a joke, it wasn't a good one. She wasn't in the mood for jokes right now anyway.

"This guy showed up, he's hauling all the junk away from the back of the motel." Dylan said.

"When... when did this happen?" Norma asked paying the clerk a small fee for documents on the bypass.

"Right after you left. He showed up. He's already hauled off a big truckload." Dylan explained.

"Did you ask how much he was going to charge?" Norma asked irritably. It was an old scam in a bigger city. Men coming to do chores around property and then charge an outrageous fee.

"That's the thing, he said that Sheriff guy from last night called him and told him to come down here and do it. Said it was dangerous debris and the county would pay for its disposal."

Norma looked up from the new form she had to fill out to see Sheriff Romero striding quickly across the lobby of city hall. He seemed to not notice or care about her. He was dressed exactly the same as he was last night. His large leather coat obscuring his police uniform, yet everyone seemed to give him a wide birth and avoid eye contact.

"Are you sure?" She asked suspiciously. Romero struck her as a bulldog just now. Someone who wasn't too keen on being nice to anyone he'd just met.

"Maybe he was trying to help us out. Wanted all that shit gone." Dylan said on his end.

"Don't say shit." Norma scolded without thinking.

The girl at the clerks desk looked up at her in alarm.

"My son." Norma explained with a manic smile.

"Well the guy will be back tomorrow to take the old car. I say we take this as a win." Dylan said.

"Did Norman get to school?" she asked instead. Dylan was her right hand man and they were forever playing a game of catch with Norman. Whoever was home was responsible for the youngest child.

"Yes." Dylan said lazily. "He got on the bus. Did you file that compliant?"

"Yes." Norma said with equal annoyance. "Only it's not just this Keith Summers guy we have to worry about now. Did you know they city is putting in a bypass that will completely cut off our motel?"

"What?" Dylan asked. "The realtor didn't say anything about that."

"The realtor lied to us, Dylan." Norma snapped snatching the papers away from the young clerk and scurrying away to a more secluded location. "That's what these people do. That's what they always do. They lie to you to get ahead in life."

"Well, can't we sue or something?" Dylan asked. "Isn't that how rich people get ahead?"

"That Sheriff Romero guy is having me meet with a councilman right now to talk about an off ramp. I don't know." Norma said.

"Well that's something. Don't be afraid to be nice to him." Dylan said. "I mean, look what happened to our old junk pile."

"I've been perfectly nice to him." Norma said scathingly. "I'm not going to flirt with a local Sheriff and I don't need him doing me any favors thinking he's getting something in return, Dylan."

"I meant be nice to the councilman, mom. Jesus!" Dylan exclaimed. "You always get so carried away."

"I do not."

"If you want to flirt with that Romero guy, go for it. You could do a lot worse."

"Dylan!"

"Hell, you **have** done a lot worse." Dylan reminded her.

"Norma Bates?" Came a harsh voice and Norma looked up to see Sheriff Romero standing nearby. He looked as though he disapproved of her for some reason.

"Gotta go." Norma said and hung up on Dylan.

**Romero.**

~ Alex was glad Lee Berman had made the time to see them. He wished Norma had been more prepared and was a seasoned, educated business woman with plenty of resources and a good lawyer. As it was, the only thing she had going for her was general sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Bates." Lee Berman said when she explained the situation to him. "I understand how frustrating this must be, but the decision has been made. We've got a deal with several major retailers that are going to bring hundreds of badly needed jobs to the area. I can't just scrap the bypass for your business."

Alex caught the look of heartbreak on Norma Bates' face.

"Is there anyway we can put an off ramp close to my business?" She asked hopefully.

Lee Berman leaned in closer. He glanced at Alex worryingly.

"Mrs. Bates, your motel has only what, a dozen cabins? We have a much larger, much nicer motel that we're dedicating an off ramp into town to. I know it seems unfair, but all this was decided months ago. Long before you even bought the place. Designs have been implemented and paid for, construction starts in the spring."

"Lee, what are her options against the realtor for not telling her about the bypass?" Alex asked knowing full well the answer. Lee Berman was an attorney in his normal life. He was only a city councilman part time.

Norma looked hopeful.

"I'm afraid you bought the property at auction 'as is'." Lee explained delicately. "In this case, it's a buyer beware situation. The realtor has no obligation to tell you anything about any proposed city developments and it's up to the buyer to learn these things for himself. Herself." Lee corrected nodding to Norma.

Alex saw Norma Bates' body deflate. Her form crumple and almost go limp.

"I am sorry." Lee Berman explained with an honest sincerity Alex wasn't used to hearing. "For what it's worth, in the busy season, the motel business is always very good here. I'm sure you'll do well once your place is cleaned up. We have a lot of activities in town and there are families looking for a quite place like your motel, Mrs. Bates."

"There's really nothing I can do?" Norma asked him. Her voice small and winded.

"I can put you in touch with a good advertising firm. Maybe a billboard?" Lee suggested.

Alex rolled his eyes.

"Thank you." He said standing up and shaking the councilman's hand. "For taking the time to talk to us."

"Thank you." Norma said weakly and allowed him to usher her out as Lee Berman was trying to give her his business card and to call him if she needed a lawyer.

**Norma.**

~ "Thank you." Norma said sharply to Romero as he walked her down the city hall steps.

"I'm just glad Lee Berman was in a good mood today. He's normally not so pleasant." Romero said.

"No." Norma said and pulled away from him. She could feel his hand graze lightly on her elbow, wanting to guide her down the steps, and she didn't like it.

"No, Dylan called me and told me you had some guy come to the motel and haul all that junk away? Said it was at the county's expense?" She reminded him.

She saw he was making a show of looking around the parking lot to see if there was anyone watching them.

"Said it was a hazard." Norma offered.

"It was a hazard." Romero said quickly. "You weren't going to get anyone else out there. Not without paying an inflated price."

Norma stepped away from him. A group of older women walked between the two of them and said nothing.

"Thank you." She said. "For doing that. And for making time..." she nodded to the courthouse. "To talk to that guy. I know it didn't accomplish anything, but I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." Romero said slowly and turned away when another group of people started to climb the stairs towards them. Clearly the local Sheriff wasn't a fan of attention and didn't want people to think they were together.

"Well, my car is over there." She nodded to the Mercedes. He nodded.

"I'm over here." He said nodding to the Sheriff's station that was right next door.

"See you around." She offered and was greeted with silence.

**Loving all the feedback! Keep it up so I'll know what you want**.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

**Dylan.**

~ "That guy was a dick." Norma said irritably cutting up vegetables.

"What guy? Romero?" Dylan asked watching his mother butcher carrots and potatoes as if they'd insulted her. The large kitchen knife making a sharp slapping sound as she chopped away on the cutting board.

"No. Not him." She said throwing her son an annoyed look. "That Lee... what's his name, the counsel guy. He told me the city is putting a ramp by this other motel in town and there isn't anything they can do." She waved the large kitchen knife at Dylan who leaned away from her. His mother could be very intimidating at times and it didn't help when she had a weapon in her hand.

"He even said we can't sue because we should have known better." She told him. "Where's your brother?"

Dylan nodded upstairs.

"Doing his homework, I guess." He said. He thought it was best not to mention the pretty blonde girl who'd come by the house early last night to see if Norman was home. It was enough she was finally giving him more freedom and Dylan didn't want to spoil it for him. If he kept Norma distracted with the motel and running it, she'd be too busy to even think about Norman.

That was a good thing. Let Norman run a little wild and chase pretty girls. The less Norma knew about it, the better.

"Well, so what do you wanna do?" Dylan asked. "We can try to sell."

"I don't want to sell." Norma said in a cranky voice. "We got this whole place at a steal. We have no mortgage and if we fix everything up..." she looked angry again.

"I know." Dylan said.

"I wanted to have a good business." she said softly. "Something for you and Norman to inherit after I'm gone. Something easy."

"This might not be a terrible thing." Dylan said. "We have plenty of notice and we don't know what the on season is like here. We can take the overflow from the town's only motel. Let's go out there tomorrow and have a look around. Who knows? Maybe it's a dump. Then people will come to us. We can be the nice motel."

Norma still looked heartbroken.

"I wanted to build extra cabins and eventually have a pool." She told him.

"No body wants a pool this far up north." Dylan told her.

Norma slowed her chopping. He knew exactly what she was thinking. She always thought like this when things got too hard. She was quick to want to move and just start over. Never mind the toll it took on her sons.

"It's not fair to make Norman move again." Dylan pointed out. "He's just now getting settled into school. After we fix up the motel, I can get a job if business is slow."

"I need you here." Norma said fitfully.

"I'll still be here." Dylan promised easily. "I'll be here to toss out the riff-raff. Let's just see where we are with the town. Like I said."

His mother looked annoyed but nodded.

"Did you do your laundry?" She asked suddenly changing the subject.

Dylan rolled his eyes.

"You left it in a big pile on the floor. Didn't you?" She accused in a sour voice. "No woman is going to ever want to marry you if you don't learn to wash your own clothes."

They were interrupted by the door bell ringing. That old fashioned ding-dong that had a lonely echo through the house.

"Who the hell is that?" Dylan asked.

"Don't swear." Norma scolded and swiftly marched past him to the front door.

"Mom, stop. I'll get it." Dylan chastised. "What if it's that guy again? That creep Romero arrested."

"He's still in jail." Norma argued.

"One of his buddies then. Let me get the door." He said shoving her out of the way just as she gave him a hard pinch to the arm.

Their visitor wasn't Keith Summers or one of his friends come to enact an unseemly revenge. Instead it was a small, teenage girl who carried oxygen on a small dolly.

"Is Norman here?" She asked sweetly as Norman and Dylan stared at her. "I'm Emma Decody. I'm doing a project with him for class."

**Norma.**

~ "You think she has to wear that thing when they make out?" Dylan hissed in her ear.

Norman and his new friend were happily cloistered in the dinning room. The pair of them giggling and talking about whatever this project was. Norma was about to bring out snacks and pink lemonade for them. It had always been hard for Norman to make friends and suddenly now, he was doing it so effortlessly.

"Shh." Norma hissed at him to be quite.

"First a blonde and now a brunette." Dylan mused helping himself to one of the sandwiches she'd fixed. "All the girls are coming for him in this town."

"What blonde?" Norma asked casting a suspicious eye on this Emma girl. She looked nice enough. Simple clothing that wasn't overly stylish but practical for the weather. She looked like a good match for Norman, except for whatever was wrong with her. Something had to be wrong with her or else she wouldn't need the oxygen like that. Was she dying? Would they have allowed her back in school if she was? Was it some kind of cancer? Norma wasn't sure she wanted Norman getting attached to a girl who was dying. He so seldom came out of his shell, although he'd been a lot more outgoing since Sam died.

'_Sam_.'

Dylan had been unusually quite.

"What blonde?" She asked whirling around to scold her oldest. Dylan looked confused. His eyes going wide and innocent.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You said first a blonde and now a brunette." Norma reminded him in a whisper. "What blonde, Dylan?"

**Romero.**

~ Keith Summers was always a bad 'houseguest'. That was how the drunks in the drunk tanks were referred to. 'Houseguests'. White Pine Bay was too progressive to punish anyone with an arrest for public intoxication. Especially not when the wealthy people moved in in the late 90's. No. To avoid an arrest record and embarrassment, it was better for everyone that a harmless person, who's only crime was public intoxication, was kept overnight as a 'houseguest' of the Sheriff's department. Give a clean bed, kept out of trouble and the wife called to say he was safe and would stay overnight in the comfortable accommodations offered by the county.

Most people were perfectly respectful 'houseguests'. They were embarrassed by their stay and were quick to leave in the morning before anyone found out. It was a policy that worked well. Except for repeat offenders like Keith Summers. The Sheriff's office had long ago given up any delicacy with Summers. His arrest record was so legendary now he might as well have an entire wing of the drunk tank named after him. He was more trouble than he was worth and Keith Summers was as worthless as they came.

He would purposefully piss outside of the toilet, scream himself to exhaustion, fight with others 'houseguests' and once even stripped naked just to scare his cell mate. Hence, Romero ordered him in solitary as soon as he was brought in.

It was customary, protocol, for suicide watch for overnight stays. White Pine Bay had never had a suicide in the jail cells as far back as anyone could remember. Still, leave it to Keith Summers to inconvenience everyone on his way out the door one last time.

~ Alex sucked in his breath at the smell. Keith Summers was hanging by his belt from the bars of his isolated cell. His eyes bulged out. His lips blue and his skin already gray.

"The coroner is on his way." Deputy Jenkins said softly. "He has to legally declare him dead."

"He had his belt." Alex said numbly. He recognized the belt Keith Summers had done himself in with. He'd been in the same shop class as Keith all those years ago. They had learned to make leather belts for Father's Day. Romero must have seen that belt a dozen times when Keith was being taken in and then released. They always took a belt in case such a thing might happen. People do terrible things if they feel their lives are over.

Alex wondered vaguely if old Mr. Summers had ever worn that belt. If he'd treasured it until he passed away and that was why Keith Summers kept it on him at all times.

"He had his belt." Romero said coldly. "Who- who checked him in and didn't confiscate his belt?"

He could feel his voice stammer slightly.

"You know who, Sheriff." Jenkins said.

Alex could feel his head spinning. He was going to have to go before a judge now. Answer at an inquest as to why and how a prisoner died in his custody. It would forever be a black mark on his record. Not to mention the call he would have to make to Maggie; Keith's sister and only living relative.

"Did anyone call Maggie?" Alex demanded. His breathing coming short.

"No, Sheriff. I know you grew up with them. Thought you would want to do it." Jenkins said.

"Fine." Alex nodded. "Tell the coroner to take him to Harris funeral home... um... after. They owe me a favor and will do everything at cost. I don't think Maggie can afford this right now."

"Lewis is next on the rotation of funeral homes." Jenkins said.

"Just do it." Alex barked. "I will call Maggie and tell her. When is Shelby due in?"

"In about an hour." Jenkins said.

"Send him to me. Don't tell him what's happened. Call Judge Wesley and tell him to come for a statement. I want this all done today." Alex said feeling sick as he marched out of the cell block.

~ "Oh." Was all Maggie said when Alex phoned her and told her how very sorry he was. How sorry he was to tell her Keith had passed away and it looked like suicide.

"Oh." She said again. "He's... he'd been having trouble lately. The house being foreclosed on. Sold."

"I know." Alex said gently. He remembered Maggie Summers as she'd been in high school. A quite girl who no one would be friends with. She wore sweatshirts her mother bought for her at goodwill with large glittery cats on them. She wore those sweatshirts still. She always looked slightly disheveled and messy in appearance. The only thing that was ever neat and clean about her was her penmanship. Maggie Summers always had the neatest penmanship. All the teachers said so as they scolded everyone else in class, including Alex, about how sloppily they would write things.

"We had to arrest him last night, Maggie." Alex explained. "He was harassing the new owner of the motel. Coming onto the property at night to bother them."

"Keith and I haven't talked in some time. He wanted money from me a few months ago." Maggie said with a shaky voice. "Some kind of... I don't know, deal he had going. You know how he was. He always had 'deals' in the works. Said he needed the motel and... that... I don't know."

"I'm so sorry, Maggie." Alex said.

"How did he do it?" She asked.

"Don't think about that." Alex said remembering his training. "Don't focus on that. I'm having him shipped to Harris' after the autopsy and they will do the funeral at cost."

"I don't want a funeral." Maggie said numbly. "Who would show up?"

"I would." Alex said quickly. There had been a time when he and Keith had been friends. A lifetime ago now.

"No." Maggie said. Her voice shaking. "Thank you, Alex, but I just want to get him buried and... move on. You know how hard he made things for me since mom died."

Alex knew. He knew once Mrs. Summers went into the ground, Keith had control of the motel and ran it like a frat house. The old family house and motel were mortgaged and then foreclosed on decades after they had been bought and paid for. In just a few years, Keith Summers had gone from relative financial security to having nothing.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." He said again.

He heard the phone click off just as Judge Wesley let himself into his office.

"Catch you at a bad time, Alex?" Wesley asked coldly.

"Coffee's fresh. I just made it." Alex grumbled putting the receiver back in the phone cradle.

"Jenkins told me what happened. We all knew Keith Summers would end this way. Let's just be thankful he wasn't driving drunk and didn't kill someone while killing himself.

"Deputy Shelby didn't check his belt." Alex said coldly. His mind was still on Maggie Summers. He should have been a better friend to her. He had years to be kinder to her, but never reached out.

"Well, that's not good." Judge Wesley said bitterly. "Shelby is young. He can find another job."

Alex spotted Norma Bates' paperwork from this morning. The large loopy swirls were distinctly feminine. Why did women write so differently than men? Maggie Summers with her impeccable penmanship. Norma Bates with her girlish swirls. The whole thing irritated him now.

"I had Keith Summers arrested for trespassing last night." Alex explained. "He was up at the family's old motel. Had threatened the new owner's sons a few days before."

"Shelby brought him in?" the judge asked. Wesley could care less about Keith Summers, Shelby, Norma Bates or Alex. He wanted to just dot the i's and cross the t's and move on.

"Yes. I stayed behind at the motel with the new owner. Did a walk through. See if there was damage." Alex explained.

"This new owner of Summers old place, he press charges?" Wesley asked looking at his now empty coffee mug.

"She did." Alex said handing him the forms Norma Bates filled out. "Was planning to file a restraining order. Then this happened."

"Well, sounds like you did everything right. Shelby is the fuck up." Wesley said. "It happens. You have is discharge papers?"

Alex's phone rang sharply. The front desk.

"Yes." He grumbled into the mouth piece.

"Shelby is here." Regina said from her desk out front.

"Send him in." Alex said.

"Let's get this over with." Wesley said. That same tone of unfeeling he'd always had was ever present. It's what made him a good judge. Not caring what happened to anyone or about anyone. "I've got to pick up my grandkids after school."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

**Norma. **

~ The boys cleared out early the next morning leaving Norma with an empty house. A house that seemed painfully hollow and haunted now that she was alone in it. She could hear the ticking of the mantle clock. The way the harsh fall winds beat against the windows.

She'd finished washing the dishes and started doing the laundry. She'd always been good about getting up early and doing little chores. As the boys grew older, she didn't have quite as much to do. Dylan, more or less, took care of himself. Aside from washing their clothes and forcing them to sit down for a family dinner, there wasn't much for her to do as far as taking care of them went.

She thought about going down to the motel office. Maybe start sorting trough the piles of old papers and junk. Just remembering how awful it had looked that night made her dismiss the whole idea. No. It was better to let her youngest son Norman do it. She and Dylan had agreed on that. Norman was fastidious and organized. He would easily sort through the mess without complaint and do a better job of it to.

If she or Dylan had decided to clean it, they could have thrown away important documents in a cleaning rage. How many times had her children cried when she thrown out one of their little toys or paper comic books?

So Norman would clean and organize the back office after school. That was his project. While Dylan and Norma took care of the rest of the motel. Problem with today was, there was nothing to do. She'd gotten an email saying her new shower curtains and mattresses were going to be late. She could start stripping the old carpets up, but she wasn't in the mood. It would no doubt be a disgusting job. Ripping up stained and rancid motel carpets.

She and Norman had agreed to let Dylan do that job.

The weather was turning ever colder and it looked like it would rain at any second. No, better to stay indoors, read a good book by the fire.

~ Norma Bates had never built a fire before and wasn't sure if the old fireplace in the living room was in working order. It was cold and damp and smelled funny. It would be about right if the whole house filled up with smoke if she tried to make it work. She was sure there was something to do with dampers, but she'd lived in the southern states all her life. A place devoid of the need for fireplaces. Even in the depths of winter.

Here in Oregon, the cold and wet seemed to linger. Nothing ever wanted to really dry out.

'_Maybe I should call someone_.' She thought feeling unsure of how to proceed. The fireplace looked ancient and menacing. She could feel a cold, heavy draft coming through it. Was that what was keeping the whole house cold? She tried to turn a large, Victorian style key built into it's side and it refused to budge.

"Shit." She hissed and the doorbell rang it's sorrowful, empty ring.

**Romero**.

~ Alex wasn't sure why he decided to come and see Norma Bates. He'd been put on leave for the rest of the week following Keith Summers' suicide. A normal protocol while internal investigations did what they had to do. He would still be paid while Shelby was suspended indefinitely without pay. A cruel position to put anyone in. Shelby wasn't fired, but he wasn't allowed to work or be paid. It was meant to force him to quit since he wasn't allowed to find full time work during the suspension.

Judge Wesley was confident that come Monday morning, everything would be fine.

"Just take the rest of the week off. Go fishing and don't worry." He'd said.

Still, Romero did worry. He worried all the time. Keith Summers' death was put in the paper and it just said he passed away in police custody. Nothing about the obvious suicide or headaches that would follow.

In the end, Romero came to the old motel because he wanted to explain to Norma Bates what had happened. Explain to her that she didn't have to worry about Keith Summers bothering her, or her sons again. He would make it sound like a heart attack or something. That was certainly believable. Anyone would think that before the truth.

He rang the bell once. Half hoping she wasn't at home. An older model Mercedes was down in the motel parking lot, but that could belong to anyone. Probably some fussy older lady who only drove it to the grocery store and church on Sundays. Still, when he saw it, he knew it was Norma's. He could easily picture her in such a car. Beautiful, classic and audacious. She belonged in nothing less.

'_What are you thinking of?'_ He reprimanded himself. He shouldn't even be here. He should turn away and leave. She might tell him off for bothering her. Leaving his Sheriff's SUV in her driveway and having people talk.

The door locks turned and with a great force, the beautiful but weather front door opened to reveal an alarmed looking Norma Bates staring at him.

"Hi." He said as she looked at him curiously. Her eyes narrowing as though she suspected him of something. It was the exact look any parent would give a troublesome child they didn't trust.

"Do you know anything about fireplaces, Sheriff?" She asked.

**Norma.**

~ "The dampener was open." Romero explained turning the flu handle on and off again with effort. "That's why it was so cold in here."

He'd been to the shed and come back with tools and WD40 to work.

"I'm not used to fireplaces." Norma said looking worriedly at him.

Romero made a grunting noise, and the was a gust of sharp, stale air that came through the fireplace.

"I bet this thing hasn't been used in ten years." He mused. "Maybe twenty."

"How do I... I don't know, shut it off?" Norma asked. "I can't have you come over here each time I want to make a fire."

She didn't miss it then. The smile that alighted his face. The idea he would be at her beck and call was funny to him.

"I've loosened it up." He explained her. "Move it now."

She turned the large brass key and heard the archaic sounds of metal scraping. Air flowing and then stopping.

"Should it be inspected?" She asked.

"Let's make a small faire and see what happens." Romero offered.

~ Norma left him alone to make the fire and experiment with it. Unconcerned with why he'd even come by. Maybe that was how it was in small towns. The local Sheriff just stopped by to bother you for no reason. She had some homemade blueberry rolls left over from breakfast. Norman and Dylan didn't deserve her good cooking most days. Her oldest seemed happy just to eat cereal and her youngest would soon start to reject being spoiled by his mother.

"Sheriff Romero? Do you want coffee or tea?" She called out.

"You can all me Alex." He called back and she heard something thud to the floor that sounded like a metal fireplace poker.

"I'm not on the clock today. So you can just call me Alex. Coffee please." His voice carrying easily through to the kitchen as though they were normal people and this was a house they shared together.

Norma nodded and started the percolator. She'd never had a cheap instant coffee maker in her life and refused to have one now.

"I have some breakfast rolls, do you like blueberry?" She asked wandering back into the living room and seeing a cheerful little fire starting to brew in the fireplace. Alex had built a little temple of sticks and old newspapers; enough to see where the smoke and air would go.

"I think you'll be okay." He mused straining his neck to see if the smoke was safely leaving the right way.

"Don't lean so close to the fire!" She chastised and slapped at him to move away. She couldn't help it. She was too much of a mother to not scold a grown man who wasn't related to her.

Alex Romero looked at her curiously and she felt embarrassed.

"I'm sorry." She said. "But don't get too close to the fire."

He nodded and she turned away from him. Her face flushing hot with embarrassment. She realized belatedly that he wasn't in uniform. His leather coat was still the same, but he was wearing jeans and a normal shirt. He'd come to see her off the clock. Why?

No time to think about that, her coffee was already popping and smelling good. She was sure Romero would finish off the last of the baked goods her boys didn't want.

Ungrateful things.

And she was starting to feel awkward putting him to work like that before he even had a chance to explain why he'd come.

She put everything on an old wooden tea tray and brought it out into the living room. The fire was starting to grow now that it had fuel and proper oxygen to feed it.

"Alex, thank you so much." she said realizing her voice had become softer at the sight of the working fireplace. Something that made the entire room seem much more cheerful and finally habitable. "It's supposed to rain today and I really wanted a fire going."

She saw him smile slightly as he took a coffee cup from her.

"Well, I didn't come by here just to fix things, Mrs. Bates." He said looking slightly pleased with himself.

"Call me Norma. I don't go by Mrs. Bates." She corrected him quickly. "Sit down." She waved to the large sofa.

"I need to talk to you about Keith Summers." He said carefully sipping the coffee he took black and looking impressed by the taste.

"What about him? He make bail or something?" She asked.

"He passed away yesterday." Alex explained in a detached voice. "He was in police custody, and he passed away."

Norma looked back at him feeling stunned. That man he arrested was dead? What had happened?

"I..." Norma started to say and couldn't think of anything to say.

"I came by because I wanted you to hear it from me first." Alex said swiftly. "The papers haven't really covered it yet until the investigation is over."

"Investigation?" Norma echoed.

"Anytime someone dies in police custody there has to be an investigation." Alex explained.

"Is that why you're off the clock right now? Are you in trouble because of this?" She asked.

Alex refused to make eye contact.

"No. I'm not in any trouble." He said and she felt that might be a lie. "It's policy to allow internal investigations... to investigate and since I was directly involved with the arrest, I was given the rest of the week off. They've suspended the arresting deputy. He... No I'm not in trouble."

Norma nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments. The fire crackling happily and the room starting to flood with heat.

"I don't want you to get into any trouble because of me. I know you pulled strings to get all that... junk cleared away from the motel." She said feeling guilty somehow.

"I didn't pull any strings." Alex said confidently. "You know how many fines Keith has paid because of that junk? He's practically paid the county to haul it away already."

She knew he was lying then. He was trying too hard to look innocent. Dylan was the same way.

"Well, all the same." She said. "Thank you. And thank you for fixing the fireplace. I probably would have burned the house down if you hadn't come by."

"Where are the boys?" He asked suddenly curious as to why the house felt so silent.

"Norman is at school. Dylan is God only knows where." Norma sighed. "He says he wants to investigate the other motel in town. I'm still waiting for the rest of my deliveries to get here. Who knows when the new mattresses will be in. They keep giving me delays and different shipping dates."

"Want me to call them?" Alex offered.

"No!" Norma threw up her hands in mock annoyance. "No, I don't want you to bully the customer service people into doing their jobs."

"Because sometimes they don't respond as fast to a woman." Alex told her.

"That... is... not true." Norma stammered for lack of an argument. The idea that her order was being delayed was because she was a woman was outrageous; and perhaps true. Stranger things happen.

"I can talk to them. I'm a cop. I think they can sense it over the phone." He said helpfully.

"I'll have Dylan talk to them if it comes to that." She sighed. "You've done more than enough with the fireplace."

He seemed to take this as a cue to leave and stood. She hadn't meant he needed to leave. Not at all. The house seemed better with him in it. Safer and more manageable somehow. She didn't have to nag anyone or worry since he'd come in. It felt like... almost as if he'd helped her carry something very heavy; and things were just a little bit easier now.

"I just wanted to let you know what happened to Keith. In case you hear talk around town." He said. "You'll be renaming the motel, right?" He asked suddenly. "No sense in keeping the old name."

"Dylan wanted to name it 'The Family Inn'." Norma explained walking him to the door. "But We're going to call it 'Bates Motel'."

"Good name." Alex nodded.

"Well..." Norma said in a shaky voice. "My late husband passed away. He left us with enough money to buy this house and the motel. It... I mean it only seems right to name it after him."

'_That's right, Norma. Let him think you truly loved Sam and are naming the motel after him. It'll look better if anyone investigates_.' She thought bitterly. If she had it her way, she would go by her maiden name once more and say she was an old maid. But she cold never be Norma Calhoun again.

Romero nodded and looked amused at the idea of 'Bates Motel'.

"Simple." He said at last. "It's a nice tribute."

"A tribute." She said quickly. "Yes. Exactly. A tribute to Sam."

"He died six months ago you said?" Alex asked.

"Yes." Norma nodded quickly. "Accident at home."

'_Shut up, Norma_.' She scolded herself.

"Oh." Alex frowned at her. "What kind of accident?"

"I just remembered... I have errands to run in town." She said taking the half empty coffee mug from him. "Thanks again for fixing the fireplace. I appreciate it."

She was rushing him out the door. His presence here in the house suddenly feeling incredibly close and bothersome. What if Dylan came home and saw the Sheriff's SUV parked in the parking lot?

"Norma-" Alex was saying when they reached the threshold of her front door.

She was filled with a sudden manic energy to get him away from the house and motel. She'd already said too much about Sam and now he was getting suspicious.

"I'm sorry." She said with a polite smile before shutting the door.

**Thank you for the sweet reviews. Especially to my reviewer who says she's having a hard time and this cheers her up. It really means a lot to me that I can do something to help.**


	7. Chapter 7

7.

**Alex**

~ Keith Summer's funeral was to be a quick and painless affair. Like pulling out a splinter out or ripping a band aide off, it was best done quickly and gotten over with as soon as possible. Maggie Summers didn't kid herself that her brother was exceeding popular and would have a line of friends and former lovers waiting for him.

"No. No." She whispered quickly. "Just a quite service. I don't even want it in the paper."

"Traditionally-" Mr. Wilcock started to say before Alex gave the old man a harsh glare. Death was always a booming business and it was in the nature of the mortuary to get every last cent they could out of the bereaved.

"We don't need to put it in the paper." Alex said curtly. "And we can use the smaller room. "Maggie just bring some nice pictures from home. Ones of him fishing. He always liked that."

"We can do a video slideshow." Mr. Wilcock started to say and Maggie shook her head.

"I don't want anyone to look... to look at Keith in the coffin." Maggie whispered to Alex instead of the ghoulish mortician.

Alex nodded.

"No makeup. I don't want to see a fee for that. Also, no embalming. It's not needed. Keith is going into the ground and refrigeration will be fine." Alex said coldly.

"Embalming is-" Mr. Wilcock explained hurriedly, but Alex raised a hand to cut him off.

Oregon passed a green law that said bodies could go into the ground without being embalmed, but funeral directors liked to mislead families that it was against the law or the rules of the cemetery to do so.

Alex knew better. It was exactly why he showed up today. To help Maggie pick out an inexpensive casket, a decent headstone that wasn't too overpriced, and all without being cheated in the "business of death". Keith had some life insurance but it would barely cover these final expenses. Maggie hadn't questioned why he'd met her there with Keith's final death certificate. Why he'd rushed the autopsy in Portland so they could have him buried back home as soon as possible.

Why he wouldn't let the funeral home people bully her into spending all of the ten thousand dollars Keith had left her in insurance money. Money that would quickly be blown away on a casket, headstone and plot. Alex had tentatively suggested cremation but Maggie shook her head.

They were all buried here. All the Summers clan. Her grandparents, parents, her crazy Aunt Margo. Even the great-grandparents who built the Queen Anne house on the old highway were buried here and Keith would be to.

"Might as well... pay for my plot to, Sheriff." Maggie said sadly. "While I'm at it."

Alex spent the rest of the morning on the sad and never ending detail of death. Maggie selected a simple headstone for Keith and a matching one for her when her time came. She was only 43 and never married. She lived alone and suspected she always would. It was best she be ready to be put to rest next to her brother when her time came.

The rest of the Summers family weren't nearly as humble as Keith and Maggie were forced to be in the graveyard. The Summers family used to be well off and respectable. At the turn of the century was when they started to bury their dead and imported a marble obelisk from back east to have it tower over all the other headstones in White Pine Bay's little cemetery. That was before the depression, the Second World War. Before the great boom of American industry seemed to leave White Pine Bay behind.

The Summers family had a little hardware store in town, along with a gas station, but it wasn't enough. In the late 50's or was it the early 60's? The family mortgaged the big house and gas station and built the motel.

Terrible idea. They were never able to catch up on the mortgages and more the fifty years later, Keith lost everything. Maggie was the only one who owned anything now. She still owned and ran the tiny hardware store that was doomed to be put out of business forever when the big box stores went up in a few months.

Or maybe she wouldn't. Who knew. Maggie was resourceful and people in this town were loyal. Her location in historic downtown didn't hurt and she could always rebrand and sell something else. Although it would be hard to picture Maggie Summers opening a cute shopping boutique. A place the likes Norma Bates might visit.

Alex blinked and let himself indulge a little on the fantasy of Norma Bates. It had been a week since he'd seen her last. When she'd let him into her house. Maggie's grandmother's house, in fact to fix her fireplace. He'd come to explain Keith suicide and had expected things to be uncomfortable, but it hadn't been. She'd treated him as though she'd expected him. Almost as if he were late and needed to be slightly chastised. She even made him coffee. Out of an old fashioned percolator. If Alex hadn't known better, he could have sworn he'd traveled back in time somehow. As if stepping over Norma Bates' threshold, into that large, spacious house, sent him back to some fanciful era that no longer existed. If it ever existed at all.

Alex, a skeptic of most things, didn't believe the overly sweetened black and white movies. That things were better back in the good old days.

In reality, they were just different. They were slower, quieter and father didn't always know best. No, he'd take his modern existence over nostalgia any day. At least there was honesty in the world today.

Still, he wouldn't mind at all coming home to a pretty wife like Norma. Someone who didn't wear yoga clothes to everything. Who dressed nicely and would gently scolded him for being late. Who wore those lovely dresses and matching sweaters. Who would make him that good coffee in the morning and tell him not to eat the donuts at the station and that she made him a nice breakfast and his uniform was already washed and ironed and smelling clean for him to wear.

Alex felt his chest hurt. A painful sorrow, deeper than the sorrow of death, came rushing over him. He was in the cemetery while Maggie explained to the funeral director where she wanted hers and Keith's headstones to be placed. Maggie was Keith younger sister and Keith was Alex's age.

Alex had no wife, no one to morn him after he died. He was alone just like Keith. Just like Maggie. He might as well pick out his own plot and prepare for death while he was here. His life was no less depressing. He was just as alone.

As if on cue, as if sensing his sudden panic attack, his phone buzzed angrily at his side and he reached for it. An unknown number flashed on the caller ID and Alex was quick to grumble an aggressive "Romero" when answering it.

"Hi, Sheriff, it's Norma Bates." Came a breezy feminine voice. She sounded carefree and almost happy. As if she always called him and hadn't shooed him out of her house a week ago.

"Mrs. Bates." Alex swallowed hard and stepped away from Maggie and Mr. Wilcock who were arguing about the laws of embalming agin. Alex would have to step in soon.

"I'm sorry I had to ask you to leave the other day." Norma said quickly as though reading his thoughts. "My youngest son Norman would have been home from school and I didn't want him to see the police car in the driveway."

"Oh." Alex said.

"Or..." Norma said her voice slower and more careful now. "Well, a man in the house. Not with his father having passed away only six months ago. You understand."

Alex felt a heavy weight practically lift off his shoulders.

"Oh." He said. "No course." Of course she didn't want her teenage son to see some strange man. A cop, no less, in his mother's house. Being served coffee and passing the time with her on the couch in front of the fire. Six months wasn't nearly long enough and there was the stress of moving and starting a new business to contend with.

"I- I understand." Alex stumbled and felt himself smile.

"Listen, I actually called because I have a favor to ask." She said.

'_Anything_.' He thought to himself breathlessly. His mind racing back to the fantasy of them in a timeless bubble of 1950's domestic life.

"Well, the boys found a bunch of old letters and Christmas cards addressed to the old owners of the house and motel. They were all stored in the attic. Some of them are from the 1920s. The Summers Family? You told me what happened to that man." She said carefully.

Alex turned back to look at Maggie. At all those long dead Summers.

"Are there any other family members who might want them? I'd hate to throw them away. There's baby books to and family photo albums from-" she was saying.

"Maggie Summers is Keith's sister and an old friend of mine." Alex said forcing his voice to sound cheerful. "I think she would love to have all of that."

"Really?" Norma sounded hopeful. "I feel so bad about what happened to um... what's his name."

"Keith." Alex said.

"Right. Keith." She said. "I want you to tell... um... Maggie that she's welcome to come get it."

"I think... under the circumstances..." Alex said slowly. "I should get them."

"Oh." Norma said. "Right. You're right. You're right of course." She sounded embarrassed.

"Um." Alex looked back at Maggie who gave him a pleading look. "I'll be there in a hour? Still plenty of time beat the school busses?"

"Oh." Norma said. Her voice sounded a little heartbroken. "That was so rude of me. Dylan gave me a real lecture about it. I'm not good about making friends. I was even worse in Arizona."

"Let me take care of some business here and I'll be right over." Alex said.

**Sorry it took so long to update. I'm in the middle of changing jobs and it's been a stressful month. **


	8. Chapter 8

8.

**Norma. **

~ The house smelled like cinnamon and the baking Norma had been doing since early that morning. She'd woken up out of a restless sleep and started to peel apples and roll out pie crusts while Norman and Dylan slept peacefully. She wasn't sure why her sleep had been thrown off for the past week, but she found herself awake every morning before the sun rose and making elaborate breakfasts for the boys before starting her own day.

Cleaning and organizing the house was a project that she just couldn't see an end to. There was so much to do. Too many things that had been neglected for too many years. On the outside, it seemed the house only needed some paint and a little yard work. Lipstick and rouge. All cosmetic changes like the peeling paint on the inside and the weathered exterior outside. Now she could hear the furnace creak out it's meager heat and the water for the bathtub was never warm enough.

With everything they would have to do to the motel to fix it up, and now the house repairs on top of all of that.

Norma whipped her hands on her apron again. That Sheriff Romero would be here soon and she didn't want him to see the worried look on her face or her sweaty palms. The look of defeat before she already started. That maybe she bit off more than she could chew and now she was stuck here with a bypass on the way and her future in jeopardy.

No, when Romero came for these boxes, she wanted everything to look nice and smell nice and to appear she had things well under control.

She was looking forward to having Alex over again and liked the idea that her home would smell of clean things like fresh laundry and the cinnamon apple pies baking in the oven. The smells of baking permeated the house and temporarily seemed to chase ghosts and worries away. Just like before when Alex had fixed her fireplace.

Not that she was baking anything for him. Not specifically. No. She'd planned to bake anyway this morning and it wouldn't hurt to send Alex off with something to give to this Maggie person since her brother died. No. It wasn't to impress Alex with her baking at all. It just happened he would be there on her baking day. That was all.

Her boys would finish everything else she made in a day. She always had to keep something sweet ready for them or else they would gorge on junk food as a snack and ruin their appetite and...

Norma rolled her eyes. It was so hard to raise boys. Why couldn't she have girls?

~ The boys had, not without complaint, dragged five overflowing and weathered boxes down from the attic last night. The cardboard was so old and broken that they were falling apart and starting to smell bad so Norma, ever fastidious, neatly organized and repacked all the albums, yearbooks and loose photos into new boxes before arranging them on her dining room table.

It felt somehow sacrilegious to throw other people's memories out. Especially the baby books. As a mother herself, she appreciated the loving care it took some long ago parent of this family to put such a thing together. The locks of hair from baby's first haircut. The little inked footprints and hand prints. The pictures and descriptions of baby's first Christmas. Times change, people change, but mothers were always the same. They always wanted to preserve these precious memories of a new a wonderful baby.

She was leafing through a particularly elegant baby book from the early 1950's when the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a little with happiness.

She'd felt bad ever since she'd so rudely shooed him out of the house last week. Dylan had found her in the kitchen, staring blankly at the wall and mumbling how she always pushed people away. She had told her son all about what had happened. About Romero coming to the house and fixing the fireplace. How nice things had been and how she'd liked him being there. That she'd had this sudden need for him to leave. This horrible feeling that they were going to '_get caught_' alone together and it would be terrible.

Dylan had reasonably suggested she was still getting used to being a free woman. To not having Sam Bates come home unexpectedly from work in a bad mood. Or to be drunk and violent around her and anyone else. That it might have even been a mild panic attack, having a another man in her house, talking about Sam and all. A sudden and unreasonable fear her late husband might walk through the door and catch her with Romero.

Norma had to agree with Dylan's logic. Her oldest son was right about a lot of things. He'd always been sensible and calm.

The door bell rang again and she had to fight off the urge to snap that she was coming. Didn't Romero realize this was a large house and she had to check on her baking and smooth out her hair? He should appreciate the effort.

Yet, as soon as she opened the door, she could see he didn't look like his normal self. He wasn't in uniform and his facial hair was slightly more overgrown than she was used to seeing on him.

"Alex." She smiled. Happy to see him. "Come on in."

He seemed like he didn't want to step inside her house. His first steps cautious as she opened the second foyer door so he could see inside the house.

"The boys brought down these boxes and they were full of these old photo albums and pictures. I didn't want to throw them out. I'm so glad you know the family member."

**Alex**

~ Norma Bates didn't belong here. Anyone could see that. It wasn't just her well tailored clothing that made her stick out. White Pine Bay was a place of t-shirts, jeans and all weather boots. Of dreary colors and earth tones. The people here blended into the background without a second thought. Norma Bates however, seemed to make an effort to look out of place and time.

Alex stole a long glance at the slender calf muscles that moved just as gracefully as they did that first night. Her nimble feet in little slip on shoes, despite the coldness of October, seemed like a shock of nudity to him. Yet, the plum colored skirt and modest print blouse made her look as though she'd stepped out of a Good Housekeeping magazines from the early sixties.

He didn't know many women who bothered to dress so well just to work around the house. Even the most vain women of this town would wear yoga pants and a sweatshirt.

"I've got it all here." Norma said showing him to the dinning room.

Romero caught the distinct smell of something baking. Something with sugar and cinnamon and lots of butter.

"It's a lot of pictures. Baby books, year books, photo albums." She went on leafing though the boxes and taking out a weathered looking baby book.

"I was with Maggie. Keith's sister." Alex said in a voice that was colder than he would have liked. "We were planning the funeral."

Norma paused. Seeming unsure of what to say.

"Oh." She said at last and gently placed the baby book in the box.

Alex sensed he'd been off putting as he caught her eyes falling away from him.

He looked around the dining room. A place that had seen better days not too long ago. It was disturbing how quickly the house had fallen into disrepair in just a few years.

"How's the fireplace?" He asked to change the subject.

Her face brightened and he could see her skin was fairer than most. Almost no signs of aging at all. He would have pegged her age at barely 30 and would have never guessed she was the mother of two almost grown sons.

"Really well." She nodded happily. "Dylan is having firewood delivered. I had no idea that you could get fire wood delivered."

A new worry clanged in Romero's head. This poor woman wasn't at all used to how cold and long the winters could be here. How it would be expensive to heat the motels as well as the house.

"You're still using the old heaters and air conditioners for the motel and the house?" He asked nodding down the hill.

She looked confused.

"We have the boiler in the basement." She shrugged. "The motel..."

"It's not going to be enough. Not this winter." He said feeling annoyed with the Summers family for not updating their house over the decades. "I'm going to send someone to check them out. Maybe hook up a propane tank to the house and motel."

She looked annoyed instead of happy.

"How much will all that cost?" She demanded.

"Not as much as freezing to death will cost you." Alex said with a sharpness he instantly regretted. He nodded at the high ceilings and large cavernous rooms. "These old houses are hard to heat and winters here are very cold."

She still looked worried.

"Tell him to start with the house. I wouldn't trust that old boiler. I'm sure it hasn't been updated since the house was built." Alex said bitterly.

Norma didn't look appreciative. Her brow furrowing up in annoyance.

"All these repairs... the bypass." She shrugged. "Did I mention I can't unload this place? I went to the realtor to see what my options were, but it's like your friend said. It's a buyer beware situation." She shrugged.

Alex felt for her. None of this could be easy.

"Give it till spring. That's when the tourist season comes in-" he tried to explain.

"I... um baked something for you to take to that...um... lady." She interrupted. Her voice a little shaky.

"Maggie." Alex reminded her gently.

Norma nodded and her cheeks looked a little flushed.

"Maggie." She said. "It's cooling now."

Alex nodded and spotted the collection of yearbooks.

"Oh." He said pulling one free from almost four decades ago. He recognized the schools emblem and colors. The schools were so small back then, that they merged elementary, middle school and the high school into one book every year.

He held it up for Norma to see.

"I'm in this." He said feeling a rush of embarrassing nostalgia.

Norma's interest seemed aroused.

"Really?" She asked with a slight laugh.

Alex shouldn't have said anything. His elementary school days were not pleasant memories. Filled with hair cuts done at home and school bullies beating him up everyday.

But he wasn't thinking of the bad times just now. Norma was standing beside him. Her clothing smelling of flour and sugar. Of soap and clean laundry.

"Where?" She challenged and he was clumsily flipping to the roster of small first graders. His younger self looking awkward as he attempted to smile for the camera. All the other kids proudly showing missing teeth and ruffled hair. Alex was the only one who seemed aware of what a cruel thing picture day really was.

Norma immediately pegged him out of the small sea of little faces.

"Oh, my goodness!" She giggled. "That's you!"

"That's me." Alex nodded.

"Alexander Romero." She said as sweetly as any mother would.

"Oh, yeah." Alex said closing the book.

"Wait there's more." She said fishing out the next years book.

"We don't... have to." Alex said feeling sorry he'd even brought it up.

She immediately rushed to the back of the book with the new class of optimistic second graders and let out a little giggle.

Alex stole a glance at a face he'd forgotten about. Again, he'd been reluctant to smile.

He noticed Maggie was in the class with him. Her expression was always odd. As though she were a deer caught in headlights. An animal looking for a safe place to run to.

"Maggie Summers." Norma said as though reading his thoughts. Her fingers running over a grade school girl who went home to an alcoholic father, neglectful mother and stupid older brother that would be in the same grade as her and Alex in a few years.

Norma insisting on looking though all of the year books until Alex's senior year of high school.

"That Lee Berman went to school with you?" She asked curiously.

Alex nodded.

"You were very popular in high school." She added holding the last book close to her and smiling delightedly down at his senior picture.

"Not really." He corrected.

"Baseball for all four years, track and field, debate-" she listed off his accomplishments which sounded so stupid now. He wasn't that energetic kid anymore. It was like it had all happened to someone else.

"I should take these." He said nodding to the yearbooks and other boxes.

"Oh." Norma looked a little disappointed.

"Maggie will be very happy to have them.

He saw her look back down at the old yearbook. No doubt closing examining Maggie Summers' old picture. Her face the same as always.

"Oh." Norma said again. "Well, let me get that... um pie I had left out to cool."

Alex wanted to call her back. He hadn't meant to sound so cruel.

He should have made up another reason to stay. Maybe he could look at the boiler in the basement and make sure it wasn't apt to blow up.

She came back into the dinning room holding something covered in foil and looking every bit the perfect housewife. Her smile unnaturally large as though trying to deflect something.

"I can help you." She said without looking at him. She placed the baked goods on top of one of the boxes and let him carry the other two.

"Thank you." Alex said just wishing he knew the right thing to say. Everything he ever said and did with women seemed to annoy them. It had been that way since his mother died.

An endless loop of never saying or doing anything right. Until it was far too late.

**Thank you for being so patient with this update, The chapter just didn't want to gel and now we're all stuck at home with COVID-19. I promise I'll be making a better effort to update daily. **


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